Beautiful In My Eyes
by foggybythebay
Summary: This is a companion story to Just One Kiss. It was supposed to be the original ending, but I couldn't bridge the time gap. Fortunately, it can stand alone. I've put it under Bella/Jacob, because that's the pairing necessary for this story to exist.
1. Chapter 1 A Father's Bravery

**Ch 1  
A Father's Bravery**

_POV: Bella_

* * *

True to the legend unearthed by Edward nearly a decade ago, Leah does cease to have the ability to shift after seven years. Apparently, during that time, she was supposed to have learned the werewolf ways and then pass her knowledge down to her children. Well, no one told her _that_ part and she was leaving _that_ up to her sister-in-law, Felicia who was soon going to be an auntie.

Now married to Stefan, Leah heads the Community Center in Forks, which is also the town theater. Somehow, she uses her pregnancy to her advantage, roping everyone, my kids and me included, to participate in Fork's fifth annual town play.

How this all started, I don't really know, but it raises money for a scholarship in the memory of my father, Charlie, who had been working with Sue's charity to help children go to college before his fatal accident, four years ago.

That's how Jake and I found our way back to Washington. Charlie's place is now ours.

Though it's a small town, people don't seem to have a very long memory. It's a weird place, what can I say?

The Cullens, including Edward, are back in town. I didn't know the true reason for their reemergence, only that there has to be a good reason. Besides, I recall Edward once telling me that Esme has a special place in her heart for her Washington home. I don't ask why, I really don't care. I am just happy and content to share an easy, casual friendship that only the passage of so much time allows us.

Edward's fame as a world renowned concert pianist, precedes him. Jake and I avidly follow his progress and even own some of his CDs. I played his _Lullaby for B_. for our babies when they couldn't sleep, and just like for their mommy, it worked like a charm.

I am happy Edward's found a way to channel some of the darkness by bringing his talents to light.

The town welcomes the Cullens back with surprising ease. Edward and Alice make their return posing as the children of the teens they portrayed years ago. Their unnaturally pale looks doesn't seem to phase this generation's kids who are in awe of their flawless goth, or is it emo, style.

In fact, it is just because of this otherworldly beauty, Alice's sparkly attitude, and Edward's newly developed comfort on stage that both were hounded by Leah, no longer werewolf, therefore no longer bothered by their sweet smell, to participate in the play this year.

She besieges them, joking that their parents would be _so_ proud of their charity work if they came to help. Frankly, I think it's Leah's morbid sense of humor and desire to see Jake's and my reaction that she presses the Cullens into participating.

Alice has taken to being called, Juliette. Edward, keeps his name, saying his father always wanted a junior. All is accepted as normal and they cause quite a stir since some realize Edward's a bit famous beyond the boundaries of our little town.

The play we're doing this year is_ Peter Pan_. Edward's supposed to be the music director, but since it's not a musical, his primary role is to portray Peter. Yet another one of Leah's never-ending experiments, another one of her ironic jokes. And of course, the ever ephemeral Alice, a.k.a. Juliette, is to be Tinkerbell.

Jake's been staying far away from the rehearsals seeing as he's often harrassed by Leah to play the dumpy role of Mr. Darling. He grumbles that he'd much rather be Captain Hook, but the role's already been taken by our son, Wolfe, now 15.

Our effervescent 10-year-old, Eva, is cast as Wendy. Fittingly, Mike and Jessica's son, Michael Jr., 5, takes the role of Wendy's little brother, also aptly named, Michael. I have the unenviable understudy role of Mrs. Darling, whenever Angela is unable to make practice.

Of late, Wolfe has been trying Jake's and my patience, as any teenage boy, perhaps normally would. Gone is my lovable, always eager for a hug and kiss from mommy little boy. Wolfe's now taken to regularly belittling Jake for not moving much farther than down the road from his old homestead with Billy.

In my opinion, Wolfe needs a swift swat on the behind and a grounding. But Jake keeps me from moving in on him, saying that he wants to take care of our son's belligerence himself, in his own way.

Today is one of the few days Jacob is in the audience during rehearsal. He's there monitoring Wolfe's behavior in the theater under the guise of indulging Eva. She'd been begging him to come and watch all week, promising she'd stay with him to protect him from her aunt Leah and her never ending quest to have him fill the role of Mr. Darling.

I feel his gaze on me as I recite my lines, holding little Michael in my lap.

"There are many different kinds of bravery, darling," I say to Michael in my loud, stage whisper. "There's the bravery of thinking of others before one's self. Now, your father," I cast a loving glance out to Jake, his arm resting casually on the back of Eva's chair, "has never brandished a sword nor fired a pistol, thank heavens. But he has made many sacrifices for his family, and put away many dreams."

I see Wolfe from the corner of my eye, listening intently backstage.

Michael, all pretense aside, is enraptured by something he hears in my voice. He quite breathlessly asks, "But mother, where did he put them?"

I catch Wolfe's angry gaze from where he's standing in the wings and speak my memorized lines as though talking directly to him, "Your father put them in a drawer. And sometimes, late at night, we take them out and admire them. But it gets harder and harder to close the drawer... But he does. And that is why he is brave."

I hold my son's stare for a moment. He blinks, and I know he is digesting my words. He turns angrily away from my gaze.

Edward, at the piano, takes the cue. The music swells and the curtain draws. I sigh.

Edward casts me a knowing look. I watch him leave his seat at the instrument, moving toward Wolfe, who unconsciously keeps a wide berth.

* * *

Later, I sit in the auditorium, part of the audience this time to watch Wolfe rehearse his lines with Edward. The costume mom has them wear their outfits making sure there aren't any last minute adjustments. My son already towers over Edward, cutting quite a menacing Captain Hook. He doesn't seem to have to pretend his hatred toward Edward's Peter Pan.

"And now, Peter Pan," Wolfe's booming voice shoots like a canonball through the room. He's brandishing a plastic sword, it's tip grazing Edward's neck, "you shall die!"

Edward, looking absolutely ridiculous in his skimpy green costume, shoots an amused glance at me. I catch his wink before hearing him joyfully announce, "To die would be an awfully big adventure!"

Alice jumps up beside me, delighted at her brother's playacting, clapping enthusiastically. I join her, wondering at their mirth in the scripted words.

Later, I'm in the minivan with my morose male teenager and my bubbly 'tweener. The theater fades behind us. I smile, sighing contentedly.

I am happy.

I know this is exactly where I want to be.

Going home

To Jake.


	2. Chapter 2 Innocence

**Ch 2  
Innocence**

_POV: Bella_

* * *

It's the last week before the show.

From the wings I watch my beautiful, dark-haired daughter and the boy I used to love rehearse their lines.

**Edward**:_ Forget them, Wendy. Forget them all. Come with me where you'll never, never have to worry about grown up things again._

**Eva**: _Never is an awfully long time, Peter._

Edward moves to stand closer to where she kneels. Her dark hair frames the copper-kissed complexion of her face. She pulls something from the box on her lap.

**Eva**: _Peter... I should like to give you a kiss._

As scripted, Edward holds out his hand in expectation.

With a small gasp, my daughter replies incredulously, "Don't you know what a kiss is?"

His hand outstretched still, he announces, "I shall know when you give me one."

Eva drops the thimble she'd been holding in her hand onto Edward's waiting palm.

"This belongs to you, and always will," she speaks solemnly.

Edward dramatically grips the thimble in his hand and dances around the stage to Eva's delight. I peer out into the auditorium curious at who else might be enjoying the scene.

I see Wolfe, his eyes narrow.

And Jake...

not at all pleased.


	3. Chapter 3 Wendy

**Chapter 3  
Wendy**

_POV: Bella_

With the performance just days away, there is a buzz in our small, motley crew theater group. We're rehearsing regularly, but my daughter, ever the perfectionist, wants to make sure she has her role down pat. After Friday rehearsal, a quite clearly infatuated, Eva asks to have Edward over the house to practice the rest of their lines.

I stay quiet as I see Edward look over to Jake, who offers one, somewhat reluctant, nod of approval. I know he's not sure what to make of Eva's puppy love. I don't see any real danger in it.

Jake and I are sitting on the sofa watching the impromptu rehearsal.

**Eva**: _I think you have, Peter. And I daresay you've felt it yourself. For something... or... someone?_

**Edward**: _Never. Even the sound of it offends me._

Eva tries to touch his face, and he jumps away.

**Edward**: W_hy do you have to spoil everything? We have fun, don't we? I taught you to fly and to fight. What more could there be?_

**Eva**: _There is so much more._

**Edward**: _What? What else is there?_

**Eva**: _I don't know. I guess it becomes clearer when you grow up._

**Edward**: _Well, I will not grow up. You cannot make me!_

Why hadn't I realized the significance of this scene before, I wonder silently. My heart leaps a little to see the parallels.

"Mom! Mom!" my daughter cries, breaking into the dramatic moment that I'm savoring. I shift my attention to her.

"Mom, you have to be Tinkerbell, now. Juliette isn't here to do it!" Sighing, I pick up the script to look at the words I must say to Edward.

"OK, mom, stand over here, a little above him. Now, you have to do it with _feeling_. You know, _feeling_." I watch Eva, dramatically bring her fist to her chest, swaying slightly with all the drama a 'tweener, wanna-be actor, can muster. I roll my eyes.

"Sure! Sure!" I say, adopting Jake's signature response as my own.

I sneak a glance at Jake, half-sprawled on the sofa. He's suddenly become interested in the _Peter Pan _script laying next to him. His eyes darken slightly with annoyance, when he reads the lines, but a slight smile plays on his lips as he witnesses my uncomfortable shifting.

Edward, perpetually 17 years old, lies on the floor before me. He's still perfect, still beautiful. I smile into his golden eyes. I edge closer to him, feeling the warmth of the living room's overhead light shining behind me.

I close my eyes for a moment, seeking that special place in me that still holds those innocent memories of him. I touch it and it gently pulses back. When I open my eyes again, I'm ready to deliver my lines _with feeling._

"You know that place between sleep and awake?

The place where you can still remember dreaming?

That's where I'll always love you,

Peter Pan. . . _Edward_, I think silently.

That's where I'll be waiting."

I hear Edward's breath catch a little, but not enough to draw anyone else's attention. He smiles up at me.

I hear a little growl from the vicinity of where Jake is sitting before I hear him bellow, "Bravo! Bravo!," cutting the dramatic tension with his loud clapping.

"Daddy, you think everything mom does is perfect," Eva says, rolling her eyes, perfectly imitating my last look towards her.

"I think she did fine!" cries Wolfe from the kitchen, ever my defender against Eva's slight attacks. He enters the room, his hands filled with a half-eaten sandwich.

"Besides, sometimes dad is right about _some_ things." I see a look pass between father and son. I sigh happily at the exchange.

"Oh, I guess mom did alright," Eva critically allows, her lips pursing, "but Juliette does it waaaay better."

I laugh.

"Of course, she does, honey," I reply. "Juliette is the perfect Tinkerbell!"

I watch Edward from the corner of my eye. His smile widens as he flips through the script, attempting to look human and busy.

I go to join Jake on the sofa to watch the rest of Eva's performance. But our comfort in this evening's plans is interrupted by gunning motors outside the front door. Jake stiffens next to me, shooting me a look that tells me Sam, Quil and Embry are outside.

"Do they need to come in?" I ask quietly. Jake nods and I look to Edward who is hastily preparing to leave.

I watch Eva put a hand on his forearm, stopping his movements.

"We only have a couple more scenes, Edward," she says. Her brown eyes looking to me, pleading to help her make him stay.

"It's getting late, Eva," I say. Looking at Jake, then Edward, both clearly tensing at the heightening situation. "Edward has to go home."

"Stay, Edward, please stay, " Eva begs, turning her girlish, adolescent charms onto Edward then. The words hit a little too closely to a long lost memory for the both of us. Sagging slightly, Edward looks to Jake for... _permission_?

"You guys want to chaperone them upstairs while I take care of your uncles?" Jake asks, looking from me to Wolfe, who hangs his head at the idea of again being considered too young to join his dad and the other men.

I catch Jake's eye and purposefully move my gaze to Wolfe, standing dejectedly near the stairwell.

"You know what," Jake clears his throat recognizing his chance to reach his son, "Wolfe, why don't you join your uncles and me tonight. Bella?"

I smile gratefully at him as a smile spreads across Wolfe's face, reminding me of a young Jacob. Our son enthusiastically bounds toward the front door to answer the ringing doorbell.

"I'll be their audience," I whisper, tiptoeing to kiss Jake on the cheek, running a hand purposely down his torso for good measure. Then, I move quickly away to gather Eva and Edward upstairs.

Once the props are set, I settle myself onto my daughter's bed to watch their final scenes.

***

"I want always to be a boy, and have fun," says Edward, cross-legged at my daughter's feet. She's sitting in my old rocking chair. Her loveliness warms me as she says words that hold so much meaning for me.

"You say so, Peter, but I think it is your biggest pretend.

Edward looks to me. My hands are clasped and I am awash with old feelings for this man, disguised as a most beautiful boy, sitting in my old room, bringing me back to another time through the words of an old fairy tale.

Their rehearsing continues as my eyes glaze a little at the memories of that innocence. I turn my attention back to them as Eva, again sits in the rocking chair. She acts a little more frail and sad this time.

**Eva**: _Peter. You won't forget me, will you?_

**Edward**: _Me? Forget? Never_.

"Will you ever come back?" Eva whispers. I notice her blinking furiously against fatigue. With a mother's knowing, I watch her hand slip off and away from Edward's still at her shoulder. I see her body start to give in to the drowsiness.

"To hear stories, Wendy," he spares me a glance, the emotions there reminding me all over again of our final parting so long ago, "to hear stories... About me."

***

I watch my daughter smile a sleepy smile. Her eyes flutter closed. Edward and I sit in companionable silence, listening to her soft breath move in and out of her. We wait a few minutes more to ensure she is fast asleep, Edward helps me carry her to bed and I tuck her in. I watch as he gently brushes her cheek with his cool fingertips. His look of tenderness temporarily stops the beat of my heart. I'd seen a look like that from him before. But it's a different kind of yearning, I suddenly realize. He catches himself and looks away to find me, now standing in the doorway.

I motion for him to join Jake and me downstairs. The other men have long gone. He shakes his head, but comes quietly to my side.

At last, we have a moment to speak. I've been holding this little thing and worrying it with my fingers all night, hoping I'd get a chance to speak to Edward alone. I've had it with me since I learned of his return and his interest in participating in Leah's community play.

It is the first time we've spent alone together since the day I found out he was back in town. I still knew nothing about his life beyond the magazine articles I've read about his career.

"Edward," I said, holding out my hand, the little gift inside my lightly-closed fist. "You gave me something once, that you didn't want me to give back. I've been wanting to give you something in return for a very long time. I found the perfect thing just recently."

He places his open palm beneath my fisted one, curious to see what I held in my grasp.

I open my fingers and watch the warmed thimble fall onto his waiting palm. I hold his golden gaze and say the words I know he's memorized for the scene about Wendy's girlhood, that innocent kiss.

"This belongs to you," I whisper "and always will."

I watch as he clasps the token to his chest and carefully places it in his pocket. Not a playact, these movements.

He takes a long breath. I realize I haven't taken a breath of my own yet.

I inhale.

Edward smiles, his crooked smile.

I am relieved he understands the symbol of my gift.

"Bella, I've been wanting you to meet someone."

"Now?" I asked casting a glance look at the dark outside.

"She's been waiting a long time to meet you."

This gives me pause.

"Do I know her?" I ask, unsure what to think.

"You saw her once, I think."

He glides soundlessly to the window, turning to me with questioning eyes.

I nod and he beckons to someone who seems to have been waiting in the backyard outside.

In one blink, she fills the open frame. She is young and breathtakingly beautiful, so much different than the frantic, haggard girl I saw in the clearing on the night that started me on the journey that brings me to where I am today.

I smile, conscious of the skin wrinkling at the sides of my eyes. Her eyes are young, bright, and golden. She holds back, shyly.

"Hello, I'm Bella," I say, holding my hand out to her in welcome. She moves gracefully from the sill to the floor besides me, taking my fingers gently in hers, so cool to my human touch.

"Hello, I'm Bree," she replies.

"You are..." I whisper, prompting with faint recognition.

"... my very soul," Edward answering my question for her. I see them exchange a private smile. The look he has only for her is full of adoration. Hope finds wings within me. I smile and move to take his hand, while still holding hers.

"I am so very happy for you."

A look of gratitude comes at me from them both and I bring their hands together as I pull away.

"We have to go," Edward whispers.

"We're trying to hide from Alice, oh, I mean Juliette, and her..... wedding planning," Bree, softly tinkles.

"Good luck, with that," I say, smiling knowingly back at her.

"Oh, I think I'll eventually convince Edward to let her catch us," she confides in a playful whisper, gracefully stepping onto the sill.

I send a small wave as they leap from the room into the night sky.

I move to watch the couple disappear as they fairly fly into the darkened woods. I watch from my daughter's bedroom window, the same window in my father's house through which I once welcomed in my very own Pan.

I hear a creak of a floorboard behind me.

"So, it look's like he's found himself a... Wendy," says a familiar, deep voice beside me.

I turn to my husband. He captures me in his warm embrace, the script of the play hangs loosely from his hand. I move to face him, his arms still wrapped around me.

My smile widens as I run my palm down the side of this handsome face that I love and know so well.

I wonder at the imperfections beneath my fingertips, the scars, the start of wrinkles, and discover a lovely roadmap of our love.

_My Jake._

I sigh with pleasure, absently stroking with the pads of my thumbs, the soft lines at the corners of his mouth. Etched here, all of our shared laughter.

_My Jake._

I run my fingers to the nick between his brows. Here Wolfe slammed his toy a little too hard on the first day I left Jake, no longer a wolf, alone with our rambunctious toddler. I chuckle, at the memory of the two whiny baby boys I had at home for the two days following _that_ incident.

_My Jake._

I trace the lines on his forehead, not deep yet, but carved into his face, reminders of his concern for Charlie in the hospital, the sadness at the funeral, his worry for our children.

_My Jake._

I place my palm against his chest, feel the drumbeat of his heart. Alive. My heart meets his rhythm. Beating for him, because of him.

_My Jake._

I move my body closer into his. I slide my fingers further to twine in his still too-long hair. I pull his face down to mine for maybe the millionth time in our happy life together.

_My Jake._

The passion ignites.

I whisper my love for him as...

I draw him ever closer.

Enveloped in his solid, heated, human embrace...

Reaching,

once again,

for

just

one

kiss.


End file.
